"Ought to be something very fine," hastily interrupted Phil, "four wrappers!" The next minute there was a shout of laughter from us all as, after carefully unfolding the last paper, Nora drew out nurse's work-basket, piled high with innumerable pairs of our stockings and socks which were waiting to be darned!
I expected Nora would have been provoked, but she only laughed as heartily as the rest of us. It was a fortunate thing she was in such a good humour, for three more times the boys played that joke on her before the basket was emptied. One was her own choicest cup and saucer, "with love from papa;" the next, the drawing-room feather-duster, "a token of appreciation from the family,"—Nora hates to dust! and the third, an unfinished sketch which she began months ago, and which was for Phil when completed; this was "from her affectionate brother, Philip." And they were so cleverly sandwiched in between the real birthday gifts that Nora got caught each time, to our great enjoyment.
After this we had games, and refreshments were served early on account of the little ones. As soon as they had said good-night we played more games, and then the boys began to get noisy; that's the worst with boys,—at least our boys,—just as soon as they begin to enjoy themselves, it seems as if they must make a noise and get rough. Ever since Nannie and I had that talk, I've been trying my best to act like a young lady, and this evening I was particularly on my good behaviour; but, oh, it was tiresome! and I could see that the boys didn't know what to make of it,—Murray Unsworth asked if I didn't feel well, and Fee looked very quizzically at me, though I pretended I didn't see him. I was so afraid he'd say something right before that boy!
Well, as it happened, all my pains went for nothing,—and just through Fee's nonsense. Murray and I were looking at Phil's boxing-gloves,—Phil was out of the room,—and as we talked, I slipped on one of the gloves, when Felix came up behind me and took hold of my arm. "That's Phil opening the door," he said quickly; "let's play a joke on him." And before I had the least idea of what he was going to do, Fee had raised my arm and given the person who was entering such a whack on the shoulder with the boxing-glove as whirled him completely round, so that he got in the way of another person who was behind him, and nearly knocked him over. In a moment more we saw that the two persons were papa and a stranger,—a young man!
There was an instant's awful pause, broken by a nervous little giggle from Jack at the sight of Phil—behind papa—with his hands clasped, his knees bent as if in abject terror, and his eyes rolled up to the ceiling. Then, settling his glasses—which had been nearly knocked off—straight on his nose, papa looked around at us and asked, "Is this the way you welcome your guests, Nora?" adding, to me, "Take off that glove, Betty!"
I got awfully red, I know; but before I could say anything Felix stepped forward and explained, and Nora advanced with a smile, saying, "We are very glad to see you, papa."
Then papa introduced the young man, and who should he be but Max's ward, "the great Shad," or, to give him his proper name, Chadwick Whitcombe! He had expected to meet Max at our house, and had waited some time downstairs for him; then, as the evening wore on and Max did not appear, papa had thought it best to himself bring him up and introduce him to us.
Of course we all looked at him,—and the more so that he isn't at all like what we had any of us expected. In the first place, though Max says he's just nineteen, he acts as if he were years older than that, and altogether he is different to any of the boys we've ever known. He's not quite so tall as Fee, though he wears very high heels on his boots; and his features are so delicate, his complexion so pink and white, that in spite of a tiny moustache, which he's very fond of caressing, he looks a great deal more like a girl than a boy. His hair is as yellow as Mädel's; it's wavy like a girl's, and he wears it long and parted in the middle; and his eyes are large and very blue,—Phil says they are "languishing," and he and Felix have given him another nick-name of "Lydia Languish." He wore evening clothes, with a white flower in his buttonhole, and there were diamond studs in the bosom of his shirt, and a diamond ring on one of his fingers. When papa introduced him, he put his heels together and made us three very low and graceful bows, saying, in a voice just like a girl's, and with a smile that showed his white teeth, "I am very happy to—aw—meet you!"
"'AW!'"